


Her Hands

by BelowZenith



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Femslash February, Ficlet, Hand & Finger Kink, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-17
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-03-13 07:48:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3373517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BelowZenith/pseuds/BelowZenith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aveline starts to realize the depth of of her feeling for Isabela and her old hurts start to fade.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Her Hands

The Hanged Man was dead when Aveline arrived. It was a weeknight, after all. She eyed their usual table. No one else was here except for Corff. She nodded at the barkeep and took a seat. Time off was sparse for Aveline and she often wondered why she spent so much of it here. She was not surprised the rest of them were late. They always were.

There was nothing Aveline hated more than wasting time. She idly looked around at the familiar setting. Corff was busying himself wiping down the bar and re-washing dishes. At least he had given up trying to make small talk with her. She stretched her well muscled arms over her head; keeping her back straight and then brought her hands down upon the wooden table’s surface. 

Aveline’s fingers were long and tapered. If she were the sort to play an instrument, they would have served her well. At least, that's what her father always said. Aveline had never tested this sentiment. As it stood, the backs of her palms were covered in small scars. The sword was her instrument of choice and gauntlets could be unforgiving when they bit into flesh. The skin around her cuticles was cracked and her nails were cut short and straight across. She did not notice the splinter that had embedded itself under the nai of her right index finger until she started idly drumming her fingers on the tabletop. 

Aveline sucked in air sharply through clinched teeth. She examined the offending finger, frowned, and tried to work the splinter out with the fingernails on her opposing hand. She was so engrossed in this activity that she did not notice Isabela’s arrival. The Rivaini had been watching her, leaning against the hallway entrance that led to the rented rooms. 

Few people were able to make Isabela ill-at-ease. Aveline was one of them. Despite knowing her for two years, the Captain of the Guard had a way of making the ship captain feel unsettled. It would be another year before Isabela figured out why. Seldom, did she actually want people to like her; Aveline was an exception. Isabela could never quite gauge how the other woman felt about her.

“What have you got there, big girl,” Isabela asked as she closed the distance between them. 

Aveline looked up suddenly.

"Just a splinter."

“Hey Corff, do me a solid, good man, and bring us some ice water,” Isabela shouted at the barkeep.

Aveline gave a look of protest as Isabela took her hand gently to survey the damage. Aveline was acutely aware that this was the first time the two of them had intentionally touched. 

Everything about the self-proclaimed captain had always appeared effortlessly glamorous to Aveline. Her hands were the exception. Aveline could fill the callouses on her fingertips. Isabela's cuticles were shredded and peeling. The skin just under the nail bed was red. Her nails themselves were short. Her knuckles were the widest part of each finger. Aveline would wager that every knuckle on Isabela's right hand had been broken once, and she wasn't one to gamble. The Rivaini's palms were rough. They were the hands of a woman who worked. Isabela had earned her hands.

“Thank you, Corff,” Isabela said interrupting Aveline’s thoughts as the barkeep set the glass on the table. 

“Anything for you, ‘Bela,” he grinned. 

Aveline rolled her eyes and made a slightly disgusted sound. Isabela winked at Corff before turning her attention back to Aveline,

“Alright, big girl, I’m going to need you to put your finger in that ice water to reduce the swelling. I’m going to go get some tweezers.”

“Alright, fine,” Aveline grumbled as she complied.

She watched Isabela head back toward her room. Though she’d never say it out loud, Aveline admired the way Isabela walked. Her gait was easy and self-assured. Aveline always felt a touch awkward in social settings. She never knew what to do with her hands. Now that Aveline reflected upon it, Isabela always moved with a natural grace. Watching her fight was a thing of beauty. Isabela was deft, deadly, and precise. Aveline would never want to face her in combat.

When Isabela returned Aveline had a half-smile on her face. Her features were relaxed. Her finger was still immersed in the ice water. 

“What’re you thinking about? That Guardsman you are sweet on?”

Aveline's expression was somewhere between mortification, "How did you know about that?" 

“Oh come on, you knew word was going to get around. Everyone knows Garrett Hawke can’t keep a secret," Isabela said and then softened her tone, "Here, give me your hand.”

“I told him that in confidence. I didn’t think --,” Aveline said unable to mask the frustration in her voice. She let out a sigh of frustration and frowned before she offered her injured hand to Isabela and then continued, "It's just like him to not respect my privacy.".

“Ah, don’t worry. He only mentioned it to me, looking for advice for you. Hawke’s an awfully awkward flirt. We’ve seen how he’s been getting on with Anders. Two years and that ship still has not managed to set sail,” Isabela said as she cradled Aveline’s hand in hers and began working at the splinter with the tweezers. 

Aveline couldn’t help but laugh, “You know, you’re right. I should have probably talked to you. Out of everyone I know in Kirkwall, you’re probably the best flirt.”

“Probably? You bet your sweet ass I am!” 

Aveline’s laughter was interrupted when Isabela triumphantly held up the tweezers to show that she had removed the offending splinter. She was still holding Aveline’s hand and she squeezed it affectionately. Her eyes locked onto Aveline’s. They looked at each other for a long while.

“You know, if you ever want to talk about anything, Aveline. I’m here.”

Aveline started to say something sarcastic, but the sincerity on Isabela's face silenced her. 

Hawke walked in. Never one for manners, he let the door slam behind him. The two women were still holding hands and looking at one another. 

“Well if it isn’t my two favorite ladies unless Merril's around in which case --,” Hawke stopped abruptly and then continued, “If I’m interrupting anything --”

“I should give you a good kick. Isabela was just helping me with a splinter,” Aveline said indignantly as she sild her hand away from Isabela and then hastily added, “Nothing more.”

The rest of the night at the Hanged Man followed its regular pattern. Eventually, Varric came out of his room. He was spending more and more time writing now. Carver, Merrill, Anders, and Fenris all showed up sporadically. The group of friends alternated between games of Wicked Grace and Diamondback. Merrill and Carver sat shoulder to shoulder. Anders and Hawke hardly took their eyes off one another.

Everything was the same as usual for Aveline; except it wasn’t. She had an acute awareness of Isabela. It was as if she was seeing the other woman for the first time. Isabela’s eyes crinkled at the corners when she smiled and the pirate captain took up more space than anyone else. She with her elbows on the tabletop pointing in opposite directions and her legs stretched out underneath it. When she talked, she used her hands to punctuate her sentences. Once, Isabela caught Aveline looking at her and she raised an eyebrow and offered a suggestive smirk. Fenris unknowingly interrupted when returned from the bar with a round of drinks.

Aveline stayed later than usual, but still was the first to leave. As she walked the streets of Kirkwall alone, she felt grateful for the group of well-meaning miscreants she could now call friends. For the first time, Kirkwall felt like home. She still missed Lothering, but that feeling had dulled over time. She opened the door to her small house, hung the key on a hook and began her nightly ritual of getting ready for bed. She sat at her desk chair brushing out her long, copper hair. 

Her gaze fell upon the full length mirror Wesley had bought her for their last anniversary. He had attached a card that read, 'If only you could see yourself the way I do.' She had thought it lost when they fled Lothering. But somehow, he planned for it to arrive at Kirkwall. The two of them had planned to flee to Kirkwall as soon as news of Ostagar reach their small town. Aveline had turned the mirror against the wall the first day it arrived. She had become uncomfortable with her own reflection. She had not felt desirable since Wesley died over two years ago. She stopped. Thinking about him was still hard sometimes. That was a wound that would never fully heal and Aveline was not sure she ever wanted it to mend. 

Unsure of her motivations, Aveline walked over to the mirror and turned it so the glass faced her. Her reflection stared back at her clad in nothing but her chemise. Her figure was illuminated by the moonlight.

Aveline pressed each one of her hands to her cheekbones. Usually, she was always self-conscious about how they protruded. She ran her hands along her hips. Usually, she had always wished they were more shapely. She moved her hands up her well-muscled stomach and cupped her breasts. Usually, she wished they were fuller. She surveyed the freckles that covered the entirety of her body. Usually, she loathed everyone of them. Usually. But not tonight. She smiled at her reflection and rotated her body to look at her self from different angles.

Satisfied, Aveline padded across the floor and climbed in to bed. She rolled over on to her side and tucked one of her arms under her pillow. She closed her eyes and tried to sleep. A dull aching stirred between her legs; a feeling that hadn't visited her in so long. She ran her right hand along her thighs and tried to think about Guardsmen Donnic. She wanted so badly to be able to move on. She imagined Donnic's lips against her own, his hands rough and firm at her hips; his body pressed hard against hers. 

Aveline worked her hand into her small clothes and felt the familiar heat of her own body.

She tried to focus on Donnic, but her thoughts wandered without warning. Donnic’s mouth became Isabela’s; it was softer and fuller. Then, all thoughts of the guardsman vanished. Isabela’s hands pressed hard into Aveline's hips; her thumbs running rough circles around her pelvic bones.

Aveline arched her back.

_Isabela’s calloused palms glided up Aveline’s bare arms. Hands were in Aveline’s hair; pulling gently at first and then harder. Isabela's tongue pushed past her lips and ran alongside Aveline's. Every one of Isabela's movements were slow, patient, and methodical._

Aveline rolled on to her stomach and slid two fingers into herself.

 _Isabela shoved her hard against a wall. Aveline ran her hands along the other woman’s back and cupped her ass._

Aveline moaned into her pillow.

 _Isabela’s lips moved to Aveline’s neck. Teeth grazed. Aveline’s skin prickled with delight. Isabela's hands moved along the waistband of her pants teasingly._

Aveline panted, her eyes were closed. Her thumb massaged her cliterous. Her fingers moved in and out rhythmically.

_“I want you, big girl,” Isabela whispered; her lips against Aveline's ear and warm breath were maddening._

"Please," Aveline panted aloud. 

_Isabela positioned one of her legs between Aveline’s and slid her hand down the front of her pants. Aveline was unable to do anything but cling to Isabela desperately._

That’s when it happened. Aveline came with Isabela’s name on her lips. The release was sweeter than Aveline had remembered. She held still for a while basking in the relief and regaining control of her breathing. Slowly, she rolled over on to her side, one hand still resting between her legs and touched the empty space on the bed next to her before falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The next morning, Aveline awoke feeling positively refreshed. She sat up slowly, stretching her arms above her head; leaning first to the left and then to the right. Without looking, she eased her feet into a worn pair of blue nug slippers and stood up. As she walked to the kitchen to start making coffee, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. At first she was startled; having forgotten that she had righted the mirror last night. She surveyed herself by turning slightly to one side and then to the other. Finally, she stood straight before the mirror and looked at herself for a long while. Her reflection beamed back at her. Aveline couldn't help but grin. It was going to be a good day.

**Author's Note:**

> I took some liberties with the Thedas delivery service to make my heart happy. Sorry, friends.


End file.
